


Midnight Feathers

by why-the-hell-do-i-write (stillwater_writes)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Feral!76, Wingfic, Wings, bit violent, there's a bit of blood as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7584103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillwater_writes/pseuds/why-the-hell-do-i-write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Black birds have always been shunned, rumors about them spread with malicious intent. They are seen as unlucky at best and harbingers of death at worst. So what happens when one of those is forced to be true?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tophatlass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tophatlass/gifts).



> Saw an ask on Tophatlass' tumblr that brought together the Feral!76 au and the Wings au, and I just couldn't resist.

They’ve heard the stories. The ones about black birds. That they’re signs of misfortune, that they bring bad luck and tragedy wherever they go. They’ve also heard the darker stories, that they’re demons, denizens of the devil himself. Bringers of death. They all thought they were just stories, things told to ostracize the unfortunate inky winged individuals. Nobody could have ever guessed someone would make them true.

\----

The mission was supposed to be easy, in, out, rescue hostages and keep casualties to a minimum. Maybe capture a possible informant if they’re lucky. They weren’t lucky.

At first it had been easy, only fighting regular Talon foot soldiers. They had guns, but Reinhardt had his armor and shield. They had concussive grenades, but Tracer had her rewind. They even had a few turrets, but Genji and Hanzo could reflect fire and snipe, respectively. They had no apparent backup, Mercy was there to patch everyone up. They had already low morale, the new Overwatch was just itching to fight. There was only one thing that turned the tides, even if it was crippling to Talon’s forces. They had an angel of death.

\----

The room echoes with gunfire and yells, metal striking metal and the air fills with haze from the destroyed turrets. Nobody can hear it when the Talon captain calls for back up. They don’t notice when two sets of boots arrive, stopping on the balcony up above. They don’t see anything when restraints are removed, releasing talon adorned hands and disheveled, unkempt wings. They can’t hear the snarl from the mask covered face, see the primal rage burning in hidden eyes. None hear the quiet ‘go’ whispered in a foreign tongue. Nobody knows anything, until he leaps, whisper of midnight black feathers sending chills down the spines of all those cast under their shadow.

Only one really notices, a single Talon agent distracted from the chaos in front of him. He feels the breeze, the creep of dread in his heart, the abyss held in those black wings, sucking him in before the shiny metal slices effortlessly through his armor and body alike. He doesn’t make a sound as death claims him, spilling the red essence of life from his body. It lasts an eternity but only takes a second. He’d heard the rumors; that Talon had found one. A true black bird, a demon. Death incarnate. An archangel, sent to smite all. He hadn’t believed them. Looking up into the glowing red and featureless face, he does believe. The devil has come to claim them.

\----

It’s the horrified screech of ‘Demon!’ and sudden cut off to a good deal of the gunfire that catches the Overwatch crew’s attention. All eyes, friend and foe alike snap to the source. Reinhardt lets out a horrified breath as the sight before him registers. It’s a man, his hair a shock of pure white, face covered in a metal and glass mask, and hands coated in blood, metal talons glinting in the light. That’s now what makes his blood run cold though. No, it’s the wings darker than the abyss, splatters of blood making the broken and matted feathers glisten. They’re spread intimidatingly, almost completely covering the weakly thrashing person in his sharp grip. It’s only when Reinhardt finally looks away from the sight does he see why things have gotten so quiet. The room is littered with bodies, Talon and ally alike, all having been killed by the man with black wings. Dread creeps up his spine. _Someone has a very gruesome sense of humor. Making it appear as if the stories are true._ His grip on his hammer tightens, and he swings, causing a shock wave to go flying through the air.

“I you wish to fight, fight me!” The waves slams directly into the man, but he barely flinches. It’s Reinhardt’s shouting that catches his attention. The black bird turns, hostility clear in his posture and animosity so strong it’s almost physically visible. He stalks forward, wings flared. Reinhardt’s own wings twitch inside his armor, instinct leading him to want to do the same, though rationally he knows it would be an awful idea. The man, if he can even be called one, seemingly holds no fear, only the intent to kill. To challenge him would likely only incite more aggression. Reinhardt unconsciously takes a step back, and that’s when he leaps. The last thing the knight sees through his helmet is the blank featureless mask and an unnatural light burning in the eyes behind the glass. All he can hear is the soft whisper of feathers as metal seeks purchase against metal. As the man who was once his friend tries to kill him.


End file.
